Staring at their picture I suddenly needed to know what the lyrics to the song meant.

Mi'ma'amakim

From deep depths I called to you to come to me with your return the light in my eyes will come back it's not finished, I am not leaving the touch of your handsThe sound of your laughter shall glow here again.From deep depths I called to you to come to methe moonlight I will again light your way to methey're spread out and melted againthe touch of your handsI whisper, ask in your ears:Who is it that calls to you tonight - listenwho sings aloud to you under your windowwho stakes his soul just for you to be happywho will lend his hand to build you a homewho lay his life down underneath youwho like the earth at your feet shall live onwho will love you better than all your loverswho will save you from all evil spiritsfrom the depths.

From depths I called to you to come to methe moonlight will shine your way back to mespread out and melted to the touch of your handI whisper in your ears and askWho is it that calls to you tonight.

As it turns out, the song is sung in a blend of Hebrew and Amharic.

I thought of the place my grandparents must be and imagined all the languages of the world united in one universal form.

Andrew held the swim noodle securely to one of the pool's jet spray nozzles while The Mayor held the far end of the noodle above water so that "the fire" (also known as his sister) could be endlessly sprayed with water.

Oh. The. Joys.

After exhausting themselves with the spraying, Andrew invited The Mayor to join him for a snack and offered him a fruit flavored tootsie roll.

[THE NASTY]

The Mayor asked my permission.

{Wha? Wow.}

I consented and he ate it.

Next, Andrew offered The Mayor an Oreo.

"Is that another treat?" The Mayor asked.

[Has he never had an Oreo? Really?]

Andrew confirmed that the Oreo was a treat.

"No thanks," The Mayor said. "One treat is enough for me."

This is where I fell off my lawn chair and Swoop had to smack me back to consciousness.

When I came to there was a little ring of stars circling the air above my head.I heard birds tweeting and I was confused.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

When K and I got married, we wrote our own vows.As we wrote them, we were conscious of the fact that some of our wedding guests would watch us take our vows all the while cognizant that they themselves were legally barred from making the same commitment to their own partners.Some of our friends do not posses the basic right to marry who they love.Knowing this made K and I both uncomfortable and indignant.We wrote a prayer into our ceremony asking for the dawning of the day when all couples could enjoy the legal right to wed.The other night, K came home and wanted to talk about donating money.

"I heard a story on NPR," he said. "The recent California Supreme Court ruling that legalized same-sex marriage is being threatened by a referendum to amend the state constitution. Thereferendum would overturn the ruling and would define marriage as a union between a man and a woman."

[I took a deep, frustrated breath...]

"Money is going to pour into California from conservative sources all over the country. I want to contribute funds to the other side of the fight," he said.

The plane ride was very long and Forest Mayor was uncomfortable because Mr. Big Ears took up too much room in the aisle and Forest Mayor was squished in his seat.

Finally, the plane wheels came down and the plane landed.

When they got out of the airport, Mr. Big Ears and Forest Mayor hailed a taxi cab and asked the driver to take them downtown to the elephant clothing store.

The cab driver was not a nice man.

He took one look at Old Mr. Big Ears and decided he would sell him away to the circus to make a lot of money.

He drove Forest Mayor and Mr. Big Ears to the circus grounds, talked to the head of the circus, told Forest Mayor and Mr. Big Ears to get out and then he drove away leaving them there.

Before Mr. Big Ears or Forest Mayor knew what was happening, circus men had grabbed Old Mr. Big Ears, chained his legs and locked him up in a cage.

“Scram kid!” They said to Forest Mayor. “Get out of here!”

“Help me, Forest Mayor!” cried Mr. Big Ears.

Forest Mayor didn’t know what to do. He was alone in a strange country. How would he get help for Mr. Big Ears? Who could help him?

Forest Mayor found a phone booth and made an extra long distance phone call to his Grandma Seattle.

He explained what had happened and asked for her advice.

Grandma Seattle told Forest Mayor to make sure he wore the right outfit. “Find something that makes you look like a local,” she said. “You’ll want to fit in and not look suspicious when dealing with circus people,” she said.

Forest Mayor went to the nearest clothing store and bought an outfit that made him blend in with the local people.

Next he called Grandma New York to ask her for her advice.

“Make sure you read all the good books on the subject,” she told him.

“You can learn everything you need to know from good books – and even if you can’t – at least you have a good book to read while you’re waiting for things to work out,” she said.

Forest Mayor went to the local library and checked out a few good books on rescuing friendly elephants from mean circus men.

Next Forest Mayor called Pop to ask him for his advice.

“Make a lot of silly faces,” Pop said. If you make people laugh, they will enjoy your company and want to be your friend. If they are your friends, they will help you.

So Forest Mayor walked around the streets of India making very silly faces.

When they got there they rented a car and drove out to the circus to see what was happening.

While the circus men were distracted talking to Mommy and Daddy, Rooster took the keys to Old Mr. Big Ears cage, unlocked the door and snuck him out.

She stuffed him in the trunk of the car.

“Run!” she yelled.

Forest Mayor, Mommy and Daddy ran to the car. They jumped in and gunned it to the airport.

They hopped on the first plane home.

That night, when they were all back in the tree house, The Mayor’s mommy read him three books, sang him three songs and told him a story about another Mayor who lives in a brick house in Georgia.

After that, The Mayor fell fast asleep.

And as for Old Mr. Big Ears… well, he thinks it is just fine if elephants don’t wear any clothes.

Maybe.

K and I invent "Forest Mayor" goodnight stories at bedtime.This is the first one to be put in writing.I hope to get around to turning it into one of those Shutterfly photobooks soThe Mayor can see the pictures.